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The Springfield herald. (Springfield, Baca County, Colo.) 1887-1919, December 27, 1912, Image 3

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn89052133/1912-12-27/ed-1/seq-3/

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Major Lawrence, aon of Judge Law
rence of Virginia, whose wife was a Lee.
Is sent on a perilous mission by Oen.
Washington, lust after the winter at Val
ley Forge. Disguised In a British uni
form Lawrence arrives within the enemy's
lines. The Major attends a great fete
and saves the "Lady of the Blended
Rose” from mob. He later meets the girl
at a brilliant ball. Trouble Is started
over a waits, and Lawrence Is urged by
Ills partner. Mistress Mortimer (The Lady
of tne Blended Rose), to make his escape.
Lawrence la detected as a spy by Captain
Grant of the British Army, who agrees
to a duel. The duel la stopped by Grant s
friends and the spy makes a dash for
liberty, swimming a river following a nar
row escape. The Major arrives at the
■hop of a blacksmith, who Is friendly, and
knows the Lady of the Blended Rose.
Captain Grant and rangers search black
smith shop In vain for the spy. Law
rence joins the minute men. Grant a n d
his train are captured by the minute men*
Lawrence Is made prisoner by an Indian
and two white men. who lock him In a
strong cell. Peter advises Lawrence not
to attempt to escape as "some one
would send for him. Grant’s appearance
adds mystery to the combination of cir
cumstances. Lawrence again meets the
of tho Blended Rose, who Informs
him that he Is In her house: and that she
was In command of the party that cap
tured him. The captive Is thrust Into a
dark underground chamber when Cnptaln
Grant begins a search of the premises.
After digging his way out. Lawrence
finds the place deserted. Evidence of a
battle and a dead man across the thres
hold. Col. Mortimer, father of the Lady
of the Blended Rose, finds his home In
ruins. Capt. Grant Insists that Lawrence
be strung up at once. Miss Mortimer ap
pears. explains the mystery and Law
rence Is held a prisoner of war. Law
rence escapes through plans arranged by
the Lady and sees Grant attack Miss
Mortimer. Grant is knocked out by Law
rence. who comes to Miss Mortimer s re
lief and then makes his escape.
I Uncover Captain Grant.
The thicket was sufficiently dense to
conceal us from the man, who re
mained standing at the foot of the
pteps. He was but a mere dark shad
ow, and I could not even distinguish
that he was a Eoldier, yet the danger
of his presence was sufficiently great,
for should he advance to the right he
would come upon Grant’s unconscious
form, and in that silence the slightest
noise might arouse suspicion. Mistress
Claire still clung to my hand, but only
to whisper a sentence of instruction.
“Go straight north, major, until you
reach the hedge; follow the shadow
of that beyond the orchard, and then
take the road running westward.
Don’t mount until you reach there—
“Goodby, you will not forget me?’’
“I—l am afraid not, but—but you
must go!”
I left her standing there, a faint
gleam of white against the dark shrub
bery, motionless.
There is no incident of that night’s
ride which I recall distinctly. I mere
ly pushed on steadily through the
darkness, leaving my mount to choose
his own course, confident we were
headed toward the river. I was suf
ficiently acquainted with the valley of
the Delaware, when daylight came, to
decide upon the nearest ford. As to
the British patrols, I must run the risk
of dodging these, but felt safe from
such an encounter for several hours.
In truth I met no one, having no occa
sion to even draw rein, although we
passed through two small villages, and
by a number of farms. I could not
even determine that these houses were
occupied; they were dark and silent,
even the galloping hoofs of my horse
failing to awaken response.
It was already daylight when I drew
up on the bluff summit to gaze down
into the river valley. In the middle
distance small villages faced each
other across the stream, and toward
these most of the roads converged—
proof of the existence of a ford. I
could not be mistaken as to the town
—Burlington on the Jersey shore, and
opposite Bristol. I should be safe
enough in the latter, even if we had
po outpost stationed there. I knew
homes along those shaded streets,
(where food would be forthcoming, and
i Read the Lines Almost at a Glance
and Suddenly Realized the Base
Villainy Revealed.
where I could probably procure a fresh
horse. It was the nearer town, nestled
on tho Jersey bank, that I studied
*with the greatest care, but, so far ns
J could see, the single street was de
serted. To the south, certainly two
miles away, a squadron of horse were
riding slowly, surrounded by a cloud
of dust. Without doubt this was tho
British patrol that had left the village
at daybreak.
It was a hot, close morning, and the
padded Hanger’s coat heavy and tight
fitting. I took it off. Hinging it across
tho saddle pommel. As I did so a
folded paper came into view, and I
drew it forth, curiously. My eye caught
the signature at the bottom of a brief
note, and 1 stared at it in surprise.
Fagin! How came Fagin to be writing
to Captain Grant? He pretended to
be a Tory to be sure, yet both armies
knew him as a murderous outlaw,
plundering loyalists and patriots alike.
There came to me a memory of Far
irU’H chance remark that Grant had
me connection with this fellow’s ma-
Author of "Love UNder Fire"
"My Lady of the North."etc
Jlluslratiom tg/ HENRY TlflEDE
COmaeHT a CO. 1911
raudlng. I had not seriously consid
ered it then, but now—why, possibly
it was true. I read the lines almost at
a glance, scarcely comprehending at
first, and then suddenly realised the
base villainy revealed:
“Have the money and papers, but
the girl got away. Will wait for you
at Lone Tree tonight. Don’t fail, for
the whole country will be after me
as soon as the news gets out about
Elmhurst. FAGIN.”
So that was the reason for this raid
—Grant’s personal affair. He had re
turned to Elmhurst, leaving his men
to trudge on into Philadelphia under
their Hessian offloera so that he might
communicate with Fagin. What a pity
it was I had failed to kill the fellow.
Instead of leaving him unconscious
The papers! Perhaps they were in
the coat also. Surely Grant had no
time to change or destroy them, as he
must have ridden directly to Elmhurst.
I searched the pockets of the garment
hastily, finding a note or two, his
orders to escort Delavan, and a small
packet tied securely by a cord. I felt
no hesitancy in opening this, and as
certaining its contents. The lines I
read hastily seemed to blur before my
eyeß; I could barely comprehend their
purport. Little by little I grasped the
meaning of it all, and then my mind
leaped to recognition of Grant's pur
pose. They were notes of instruction,
brief orders, suggestions, memoranda,
such as might be issued to a secret
agent greatly trusted. These were ad
dressed simply “Mortimer,” many un
signed, others marked by initials, but
I Instantly recognized the handwriting
of Washington, Hamilton and Lee.
Without question this packet was the
property of Eric Mortimer, but why
had the boy preserved these private
instructions, covering months of op
erations, I should judge, although
scarcely one was dated? And what
caused them to be of value to Cap
tain Grant?
The answer came in a flash of suspi
cion—the colonel. He could be threat
ened with them, blackmailed, dis
graced before Sir Henry Clinton, driv
en from his command. They were ad
dressed merely to “Mortimer,” discov
ered at Elmhurst, and were sufficient
to convict of treason. It was a fiend
ish plot, well conceived, and Grant
was fully capable of carrying it out
to the end. 1 could realize what the
possession of these papers meant to
him—military advancement, a distri
bution of the Mortimer estate in which
he would doubtless share, and a fresh
hold on Claire whereby he could ter
rify the girl into accepting them.
I stood there In uncertainty, turning
these papers over and over in my
hands, striving to determine my duty.
Should I return to Elmhurst? To do
so would only bring me Into renewed
peril, and would apparently benefit no
one. Without this packet Grant was
helpless to injure Colonel Mortimer.
As to Claire, Seldon would protect her
for the present, and as soon as the
father returned, he would doubtless
compel her to accompany him back to
Philadelphia. The best service I could
render was to destroy these notes, and
then seek out Eric Mortimer, In Lee’s
camp, and tell him the whole story.
All that anyone could do now was to
warn tho Mortimers against Grant, to
let them know his treachery, and this
could be best accomplished through
Eric. Although in different armies,
striving against each other In the
field, there must still exist some means
of communication between father and
son, or, if not, then between brother
and sister.
With flint and steel I built a small
fire of leaves in a cleft beside the
road, and fed to the flames one by one
the papers from the packet, glancing
over each one again to make sure of
its contents; all were addressed alike,
simply “Mortimer,” but upon two 1
found the word “Elmhurst.” It was
easy to see how the discovery of such
communications would tempt an un
scrupulous scoundrel like Grant to use
them to Injure another, and win his
own end, but why had that young Eric
failed to destroy them as soon as re
When the last paper had been re
duced to ashes, I stamped out the em
bers of fire under my boot heel, and,
with lighter heart, rode down the hill
toward the ford.
Between Love and Duty.
It was already growing dusk when I
rode into our lines at Valley Forge
A brief interview with .Colonel Hamil
ton revealed his appreciation of my
work, and that my hastily made notes
of the Philadelphia defenses had been
received twenty-four hours earlier.
They had been delivered at headquar
ters by an officer of Lee’s staff; no,
not a boyish-looking fellow, but a
black-bearded captain whose name had
been forgotten. All Hamilton could
remember was that the notes had been
originally brought in by an Indian
scout. Eager to discover Eric Morti
mer, I asked a week's release from
duty, but there was so much sickness
in the camp, that this request was re
fused, and I was ordered to my regi
Busy days and nights of fatigue fol
lowed. Washington, watching like a
hawk every movement of Sir Henry
Clinton in Philadelphia, convinced by
every report received that he was
about to evacuate the city, bent all
his energies toward placing his little
army In fit condition for battle. Some
recrultß were received, the neighbor
ing militia were drawn upon, and men
were taken from the hospitals, and
put back into the ranks us soon as
strong enough to bear arms. Inspired
by the indomitable spirit of our com
mander, the line officers worked inces
santly in the welding together of their
commands. I scarcely knew what
sleep was, yet the importance of the
coming movement of troops liel<l me
steadfast to duty. Word came to us
early in June that Count d’Estalng,
with a powerful French fleet, was ap
proaching the coast. This surely
meant that Clinton would be com
pelled to retreat across the Jerseys,
and a portion of our troops were ad
vanced so as to be within easy strik
ing distance of the city the moment
the evacuation took place. The re
maining commands pressed farther
north, near convenient crossings of
the Delaware, prepared for a forced
march across the British line of re
treat. Maxwell’s brigade, with which
I was connected, even crossed the
river In advance, co-operating with
General Dickinson and his New Jersey
militia. All was excitement, commo
tion, apparently disorder, yet even
amid that turmoil of approaching bat
tle, Hamilton recalled my request, and
granted me two days’ leave. His brief
note reached me at Coryell’s Ferry,
and, an hour later, I was riding swiftly
across the country to where Lee had
Not once during all those days and
nights had the memdry of Claire left
me. Over and over In my mind I had
reviewed all that had ever occurred
between us, striving in vain to guess
the riddle. Now I would see and talk
with her brother, and perhaps obtain
the explanation needed. Yet I have
gone into battle with less trepidation
than when I rode into Lee’s headquar
ters, and asked his chief-of-staff for
Eric Mortimer. He looked at me
strangely, as I put the question.
“I should be very glad to oblige you.
Major Lawrence,” he replied gravely,
"but unfortunately I have no present
knowledge of the young man.’’
“But he was attached to General
Lee’s staff?”
“Only in a way—he was useful to
us as a scout because of his Intimate
knowledge of the Jerseys. His home,
I understand, was near Mount Holly.”
“What has become of him?"
“All 1 know is, he was sent out on
a special mission, by Washington’s
own orders, nearly a month ago. We
have not directly heard from him
since. An Indian brought a partial re
port of ills operations up to that time;
since then wo have received nothing.”
“An Indian” I exclaimed. “The same
who brouglx in my notes?”
“I believe so; yes, now that I recall
the matter. I had no opportunity to
question the follow; he simply left the
papers with the orderly, and disap
“And you have heard nothing from
young Mortimer since?”
“Not a word.”
“He must be dead, or a prisoner.”
The chief smiled rather grimly.
“Or deserted,” he added sharply. “I
am more inclined toward that theory.
He was a reckless young devil, attract
ed to our service more, it seemed to
me, by a spirit of dare-deviltry than
patriotism. Lee thought well of him,
but I was always suspicious. He be
longed to a family of loyalists, his fa
ther a colonel of Queen’s Rangers.
Did you know him, Law’rence?”
“The father, not the son. But I am
not willing to believe evil of the boy.
I cannot conceive that treachery is in
the Mortimer blood, sir, and shall have
to be convinced before I condemn the
lad. When did he leave here last?”
“About the middle of May.”
"Would you mind telling me his mis
sion? Where he was sent?”
The officer glanced keenly into my
face; then ran hastily over a package
of papers taken from an open trunk.
“I can see no harm in doing so now,
major. He was sent to communicate
with a British officer—a prominent
Tory—who has associations with ‘Red’
Fagin, and others in MonnSouth coun
ty. This officer has in the past, for a
consideration, furnished us with valu
able Information, generally through
young Mortimer, who knew him. He
had written us that he had more to
“Where were they to meet?”
“At a rendezvous known as the Lone
Tree, not far from Medford.”
“Was the Tory officer named
He stared at me in surprise.
"I am not at liberty to answer.”
"Oh, very well; however, I under
stand the situation even better than
you do probably. Only I advise you
one thing—don't condemn that boy un
til you learn the truth. Grant is an
unmitigated, cold-blooded scoundrel,
and the treachery is his. You’ll learn
that, if you wait long enough. Morti
mer Is either dead, or in Fagin’s hands.
Good night.”
I passed out, and was beyond the
guard, before he could call me, even
had he desired to do so. I had no
wish to talk with him longer. I felt
disappointed, sick at heart, and real
ized this staff officer was strongly
prejudiced against young Mortimer. It
seemed to me I saw a little light, al
though not much. Eric had been at
Elmhurst, and Claire was not innocent
of his presence in that neighborhood.
She was shielding him, and it was
through her help that his first report
to Lee had been sent back by (he In
dian. Then Eric must have been in
the house while I was there. Indeed
it must have been Eric who made me
prisoner. And to protect him she
had told mo a deliberate falsehood.
As I rode back through tho night,
finding a path almost by instinct
through the maze of military encamp
ments, I thought of all these things,
exonerating her from wrong, and yet
wondering more and more at her real
connection with the various events.
The chief had not stated what infor
mation of value Grant had promised
to reveal; nor what Eric’s first report
had contained. In my sudden disap
pointment I had forgotten to inquire.
And where could the boy be? What
could have happened to him? Some
thing serlouß surely to keep him thus
hidden for nearly a month. Claire
would know, but she was probably
long ago back in Philadelphia in the
heart of the British garrison. And I?
Well, I was tied hand and foot by dis
cipline; helpless to turn aside from
duty now in the face of this new cam
paign. Every man was needed, and
no personal consideration would ex
cuse my leaving the ranks even for a
day. It was with heavy heart I rode
into the camp of my regiment, and lay
down on the bare ground, with head
pillowed upon the saddle, knowing the
drums would sound in a few short
It was hard to work through the
routine of the next few days, although,
some excitement was given us of
Maxwell’s brigade by scouting details
sent across the valley to observe the
movements of the British patrols. X)n
such duty I passed the greater portion
of two days in the saddle, and, by
chance, met both Farrell and Duval,
who were with the Jersey militiamen,
now rapidly coming in to aid us, as
the rumors of an impending battle
spread across country. Farrell came
at the head of fifty men, rough look
ing, raggedly dressed fellows, but well
armed, and I had a word with him
while polntl; g out w'here Dickinson’s
troops were camped. Unfortunately
he knew little of value to me. Mor
timer’s column of Queen’s Rangers
had passed his place on their returr
to Philadelphia two days after my ea
cape. Grant was not with them, but
Claire was, while Peter bad been left
behind at Elmhurst. Fagin had not
been overtaken, although the Rangers
had engaged In a skirmish with some
of his followers, losing two men.
Colonel Mortimer had been wounded
slightly. As to Eric he knew nothing
—no one had even mentioned the lad’s
It was thus clearly evident I could
do nothing/ although I now possessed
a well defined theory of just what had
occurred. To my mind Eric was In
the hands of Fagin, either hidden se
curely away among the sand caves for
some purpose connected with Grant’s
treachery, or else with the intention
of claiming the reward for his capture
offered by Howe. The former prob-
Farrell Came at the Head of Fifty Men, Well Armed, and I Had a
Word With Him.
ably seemed most likely in view of
Grant’s failure to return to Philadel
phia with Colonel Mortimer, yet there
was no reason why the conspirators
should not wreak vengeance, and win
the reward also. But did Claire
know, or suspect the predicament of
her brother? If she did, then she
was seekisg to conceal the truth from
her father, but would never remain
long Inactive in the city. I knew the
girl’s real spirit too well to believe
Man and the Mammoth
The skeleton of a mammoth discov
ered in the department of Pas de Ca
lais. France, measures feet in
length. Tho head Is well preserved,
with finely enameled molars of the
true Siberian type, thus furnishing one
more proof that the whole country was
once a land of Ice ar.d snow. At a din
ner given recently on a sand-bar in the
Danube an attempt was made to con
vey an idea of the food consumed by
man in the time of the mammoth. Cab
bage soup cooked over hot stones,
horse ham, roast pork with boiled
millet, and turnips cooked In hot ashes
composed tho bill of fare. The dessert
was dried pears and honey.—Harper’s
Sounds Like Good Logic.
Recently, several educators came to
tho conclusion, after a lot of argument
and discussion, that it is useless to
teach girls higher mathematics and
logic and that the time should be de
voted to giving the girls a mor’e prac
tical training that will fit them to be
housewives and mothers. It is much
better, say the educators, to teach
she would fall for long in learning
the boy's fate.
Forcing Clinton to Battle.
I waß left behind at Coryell’s Ferry,
for ther purpose of hastening forward
any supplementary orders from Wash*
ington, when Maxwell, and the Jersey
militiamen, pressed forward in an ef
fort to retard the march of the enemy.
From the reports of scouts we began
to understand what was occurring.
Before dawn on the eighteenth of June
the British army began leaving tbs
city, crossing the Delaware at Glouces
ter point, and by evening the motley
host, comprising Regulars, Hessians,
Loyalists, and a swarm of camp fol
lowers, were halted near Haddenfield,
five miles southeast of Camden.
The moment this knowledge reached
Washington, he acted. In spite of op
position from some of his leading offi
cers, his own purpose remained stead
fact, and every preparation had al
ready been carefully made for ener
getic pursuit. Our troops fit for serv
ice numbered less than five thousand
men, many of these hastily gathered
militia, some of whom had never been
under fire, but the warmth and com
fort of the summer time, together
with the good news from France, had
inspired all with fresh courage. What
ever of dissension existed was only
among the coterie of general officers,
the men in the ranks being eager for
battle, even though the odds were
strong against us. There was no de
lay, no hitch In the promptness of ad
vance The department of the Quar
termaster-General had every plan
worked out In detail, and, within two
days, the entire army had crossed the
river, and pushed forward to within a
few miles of Trenton. Morgan, with
six hundred men, was burned forward
to the reinforcement of Maxwell, and.
relieved from my duties at the ferry,
I was permitted to Join his column.
By Camel Across the Sahara.
N. lo More, a Frenchman, 24 years
old. has Just completed a Journey by
camel across the Sahara from Al-
giers to Timbuctoo, In the French
Soudan. His object was to mark out
the route for a proposed aeroplane
flight avross the desert He was away
from civilization for 13 months, and
covered more than 5.000 miles. At
Ain Salah, which was reached after
13 days, the traveler met another
Frenchman .and his wife, living In
the lonely district After that the
caravan went for 29 days without
meeting another human being.
cooking, housekeeping and nursing.
So far as logic is concerned, the edu
cators point out that the minds of
young women can be disciplined just
as much, if not more so, by putting
them through rigorous courses in
what will be of practical benefit to
them in life. It further is argued that
mathematics and such studies do not
help a woman to be a better com
panion to her husband, for he uses
those things only in his business,-and
a woman rather should study things
that can bo of help to him ir his hours
of relaxation.
Emotions and the Senses.
Pleasurable sensations arouse pleas
ant emotions. The sunshine Is always
enlivening to some people, and the
gloom always depressing*— men have
despaired in darkness and taken their
lives because of an oppression duo to
4he dark. We can to a degree choose
what our sensations shall be. and so
to some extent determine our emo
tions, but tho mere gratification of
sense is nearly always followed by de
pressing emotions.
The Suitors of
Mrs. Merriwid
Mr*. Merriwid came into the room
where her maternal maiden aunt Jane
waa Industriously tatting, and her
head was drooping and her step
weary. She passed her hand across
her half-closed eyes and sank into the
easiest chair, with a deep drawn sigh.
"What’s -the matter now?" asked
Aunt Jane.
"A touch o’ sun, a touch o’ sun," re
plied Mrs. Merriwid, faintly. "Mr.
Gladden has been beaming on me for
the last three-quarters of an hour and
there wasn't a shady spot In the room.
He’s the most refulgent person I ever
did see, but basking In his rays for
more than a half hour gives me pro
nounced pangs of anguish. Would
you mind having the blinds down,
dearie? And I’d like to have Hilda
toll an Imitation of a passing bell on
the lowest cup of the gong, If she Isn’t
too busy. Let’s talk of graves and
worms and epitaphs. Would you rath
er be buried or cremated?"
"How absurd you are, Melissa,"
Aunt Jane reproved.
“That’s the kind of conversation I
want," said Mrs. Merriwid. “Go on,
"I won’t do anything of the sort,"
said the elder lady. "Some of these
days you’ll be sorry you ever said
such things.”
"I hope so," replied Mrs. Merriwid,
meekly. "I trust there are Badder
days in store. You’re doing nicely.
“I Could See Him Making Light of All My Troubles."
But, honest, auntie dear, do you like
’em as cheerful as Mr. Gladden?"
"Of course I do," Aunt Jane an
swered. "A person can’t be too cheer
"I disagree with you," said Mrs.
Merriwid, emphatically. "I think Mr.
Gladden is. Of course, being a pro
moter, he’s got to be more or less
sanguine and encouraging but, In my
opinion, be runs It about sixteen
hundred feet into the ground. I’m not
a prospective investor, whatever he
may think, and I refuse to believe that
everything happens for the best. I
want to have a presentiment that the
worst is yet to come, once in a while.
If I wanted to take a perpetually rose
colored view of existence, I’d wear
pink goggles. Imagine that man as a
"I hardly think that is a proper
thing for a lady to do," Aunt Jane
"Fudge!" said her niece. "As if a
lady would do anything else! He’d
be everlastingly galumphing in and
exasperating you with his idiotic opti
mism. no matter what happened. If
the cook left at tho most inconvenient
time, he’d tell you to cheer up because
It would be all the same in a hundred
years and that there were just ns good
fish in the sea as ever caine out of It.
and that care killed a cat and away
boys with melancholy and that sort
of piffle. If the laundress ruined your
very best waist, he’d grin and say
that there was no use crying over
spilled milk and that every cloud has
a silver lining and in trouble to be
troubled is to have your trouble dou
“I’m sure I think that’s a very sen
sible way to look at things," observed
Aunt Jane. "Fretting over a thing
never helped it yet, and it’s always
better to be hopeful and look nt the
bright side."
"Suppose it hasn’t any bright side,"
argued Mrs. Merriwid. "Suppose It’s
a slab of soft coal. And what a wom
an wants in a husband is sympathy.
If she’s lying down with a sick head
ache. she doesn’t want him to jolly
her up and tell her she just imagines
the ache part. And if he can’t come
across with the price of a new hat
once in a while, it Isn’t nny satisfac
tion to her to bo told she’ll be sport
ing diamond tiaras by next fall on the
strength of his scheme to establish
aerial road houses for the flying ma
chine trade. You give Mr. Gladden a
patent clothes pin and the population
of the United States at the last cen
.bus and he’ll begin to imagine he’s
.got a fortune beyond the dreams of
avarice and nearly up to Morgan’s,
and his wife will find that it begins to
wear on her in time, like her last
year’s dresses.”
"It’s the optimists that do things,"
said Aunt Jane.
"I know,” agreed her niece. "Hope
springs eternal and it’s darkest Just
before dawn and the longest lane
must have a turning. It’s likewise an
ill wind that blows nobody good; but
you can’t make me believe that a bad
egg is going to Improve in course of
time anil be good, or that it won’t
cloud up and rain some day when I
am wearing my best hat. And If I
lose my purse with twenty dollars’
worth of money In it, I don’t confi
dently expect to have it returned to
mo Intact within twenty-four hours;
furthermore, I won’t dismiss the mat
ter from my mind with a gay laugh.
I’m not a pessimist, at that. I know
one jovial, hearty, smiling, haw-haw
lng optimist that I’d like to see with &
raging toothache, anyway, and the
last part of that sunny-tempered vis
ionary’s name is Gladden."
Mrs. Merriwid spoke with such un
usual petulance that Aunt Jane look
ed at her In surprise. Then Mtb. Mer
riwid laughed.
"The wretch proposed," she said.
"You don’t meant to tell me!" ex
claimed Aunt Jane.
"I didn’t mean to," said Mrs. Mer
riwid, "but I suppose I might as well.
Yes, he wanted me to marry him and
he couldn’t sec anything ahead of us
but ineffable bliss. I could see quite
a number of things. I could see him
making light of all my troubles even
if he didn't magnify his own, which
your cheery optimist has away of
doing, dearie. It's the easiest thing
In the world to be philosophical over
a broken leg when it’s the other r,i
low’s, and it's cheaper to encourage
your forlorn ani disconsolate brother
man with a few words of cheer than
It Is to lend him money. Well, I
didn’t mention all this. I merely told
him that It could never, never be.
"‘Well,’ he said, cheerfully, T cer-
tainly hoped that it could, but of
course if it can’t. I’ll have to make the
best of It. Maybe it’s just as well
after all.’
"If you expect me to like optimists
as far gone as that, you’re going to be
disappointed,” concluded Mrs. Merri
(Copyright. 1912, by W. G. ChapmanJ
Depth of Meanness.
Little Jonas was the son of penuri
ous parents, and the son bade fulr to
outdo them in frugality—a fact that
worked extreme hardship upon Bobby
Graves, his seatmate.
Bobby came home one night looking
so depressed that his mother asked
the cause of his trouble.
“It's that Jone Peterbo!" burst out
Bobby. "He's just about the meanest
thing! He eats my apples all up, and
ho never gives me even a'bite often
his, an’ my apples are good an’ his
ain’t —very! An’ today he made mo
do his ’rlthmetic zamples, ’cause he
didn’t know how, an’ he wouldn’t even
lend me his pencil to do ’em with!"—
Youth’s Companion.
Happy Burmese.
The Burmese are the most light
hearted and care free people in all
the world, and the sound of merry
laughter fills ull this happy land. At
heart the Burman is. first of all, a
gentleman, and though ho Is the
proudest mortal in the world, ho is
unaffected, sincere and as simple as a
little child, and is. moreover, remark
ably free from the vices of other
oriental races. The Burman may be
indolent, careless and pleasure lov
ing to a fault, but he is always kind
ly. and what he lacks in ambition and
industry is more than supplied by the
energy and cleverness of his wonder
fully capable women.
Power to Do Good.
The Increment that comes to any
humnn faculty through use is the
sweetest of all satisfactions to bo got
out of work —sweeter than material
rewards, sweeter than the praise of
one’s fellows, sweeter than purchased
ease. To feel that one is steadily
growing in one’s power to do good
there is deeper gladness in that, to
an earnest soul, than in almost any
thing else this world affords. —Pun-
Her Faith Lost.
A little 'Boston girl was coaxed to
own to her aunt that she had done
something which she ought not. and
which she stoutly denied. Finally,
such undeniable proof of her guilt
was put up before her that she could
no longer keep her denial. She turn
ed to her aunty, and said: "Well, Aunt
Kittle, you tan’t trust anybody, now
The People Supreme.
I repeat that all power Is a trust;
that we are accountable for Us exer
cise; that from tho people and for tho
people ull springs and all must exist.
—Benjamin Disraeli.

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